


The House of Ren

by icryforbensolo



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anonymity, BDSM, Bisexual Kylo Ren, Blowjobs, Bondage, Choking, Cunnilingus, Debauchery, Dom Kylo Ren, Dom rey, Exhibitionism, F/M, I will update tags as needed, Journalist Rey, Media Mogul Ben, Newspapers, Sensation Play, Sex Mansion, Spanking, Sub Rey, Switching, Voyeurism, bisexual rey, hidden identities, just as sexual partners not romantic partners, mentions of kylux, sub kylo ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26503810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icryforbensolo/pseuds/icryforbensolo
Summary: Journalist Rey of the Chandrila Daily Journal is desperate for her first big story. After hearing rumors of the infamous parties at a mysterious mansion outside of town, she thinks this will be her chance. One night, after a brutal day at work, Rey receives a red envelope bearing the insignia of the patron of the house, Kylo Ren, inviting her to an evening at his home.How far will Rey go to discover the truth? Will she lose herself in the process?
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 9
Kudos: 20





	The House of Ren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to this little fic. I have it outlined, but I’m not completely sure what the chapter count will be for the outline, but it’ll only be a few chapters.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the ride.

Rey Niima taps her pen against her desk impatiently. She dressed up today—as in she wore a dress instead of her usual blouse and pants. Today is a big day—her first pitch meeting. She has a pitch already prepped for the entire affair. Hopefully, she’ll get her first-ever by-line. Rose, her dearest friend and coworker, has already had several stories for the paper. Rey has had none, instead spending most of her days doing preliminary research for the top writers. But now is her chance and she had never been more excited. 

She glances at the clock. 9:27, it reads. Just three more minutes. She looks at the conference room where the meeting will be held. Amilyn Holdo, the editor-in-chief, is gesticulating some broad point to someone in the room. Rey tilts her chair back slightly to see who it is. Rey glances around the newsroom, hoping to see if any of the writers are paying as close attention as Rey. 

Canada, one of the older writers in the room, seems to be paying apt attention to what’s happening in the room. Rey looks at the stern man as he stares into the glass room. “Who’s Holdo talking to?” Rey asks the man. 

He grunts, turning to look at the rookie writer. “New owner. He’s buying up newspapers left and right. Thinks of himself as some sort of media mogul or something.” He continues glaring into the room as though he can burn holes into the new owner. “Better not make us blog. Made it this far without having to post a blog. Ten more years,” Canady mutters to himself. 

Privately, Rey thinks that Canady is a bit foolish to think that any new owner isn’t going to add a blog element to the paper. Most people consume their news online these days. It’s only smart business sense. But if Canady is going to implode on himself with his old-fashioned ways, then that can only be good news for Rey, right? 

Minutes pass by and soon it’s past the start time of the meeting. Holdo and the new owner seem to still be arguing about something. The entire Chandrila Daily Journal news team waits patiently for the meeting to start. Rose joins Rey. “Who’s the guy with Holdo?” she asks Rey, taking a bite of her apple as she plops herself on top of Rey’s desk. 

“New owner, I guess,” Rey replies. As each minute passes, she gets increasingly nervous about the pitch meeting. She doesn’t want to mess this up in any way. 

“Nervous?” Rose asks, finishing up her apple before tossing the core into Rey’s trash. Rey simply nods in response, continuing the taps of her pen against her desk. “Don’t be. Your idea is great. It’s something the people ought to know. And Holdo lives for that sort of story—the ones that will get people all riled up.”

Rey nods once more, glancing at her folder of preliminary research. Rose is right. This is a great idea. And it’s something personal to Rey, too, without being too personal for extreme bias. Holdo will love it. Or at least respect it. Holdo seems too stern to ever say the word love in an office setting, 

Finally, fifteen minutes after the meeting is supposed to start, the door to the conference room swings open. Holdo—in her purple hair glory—stands in the doorway, motioning people to enter. Slowly, the newsroom files into the conference room, taking their seat around the table. Rey, for the first time, manages to snag a seat, rather than being one of the chums standing in the back. 

At the head of the table sits a man keyed into whatever he’s typing on his MacBook. His black hair swoops down to just above his board shoulders. She can’t quite make out his face from the glow of his laptop, but he’s got a large, sharp nose. His eyebrows are furrowed in a frown as he continues to type. His hands—oh, his hands—look tiny as he presses down on the keys. How can he type so quickly with those giant paws that he calls hands? So this must be the owner. Huh. 

Amilyn stands at the front of the room, setting up her computer’s screen sharing. “Welcome, staff. Sorry for the late start. My meeting with Mr. Solo ran a bit long,” Amilyn begins. She gestures to the owner—Mr. Solo—as she speaks. “This is Benjamin Solo, he’s the newest owner of our little paper. He’ll be sitting in our meeting today, observing the sort of news that we want to report.”

Mr. Solo stands, and he’s so much bigger than Rey realized. He’s dressed simply—a black suit sans tie. Rey gulps. Newspaper owners are supposed to be old and bald and gross generally, not young and handsome and so, so large. “Greetings. I’ve been reading old editions to your so-called newspaper and I find that the writing has been lacking. You have only one task today. Impress me.” He sits back down at his computer, clearly indicating that the meeting shall begin. 

Rey glances around the room as her fellow writers go through their notes. Rey stares at her one measly file and hopes that this is enough to impress Benjamin Solo. Anxiety rises as pitches are made. Holdo is fair, as always, but Solo seems ruthlessly cutthroat. He dismisses story after story after story. Rose’s story about a local businessman caught soliciting sex made the cut. So did Canady’s story about reckless spending by the mayor’s office. Rey keeps staring down at her notes suddenly unsure if her story is worth it. She doesn’t have sources to give her scoops the way Rose and Canady did, but at least she had the work ethic.

“Niima,” Holdo calls out. Rey startles, looking at her boss. Holdo’s eyebrows are raised, waiting to hear what Rey has to say. 

“Students with unpaid lunch debt are being denied lunch at the local school district. If a kid’s balance in their account is negative by eight dollars, then they will no longer be served lunch,” Rey explains. “Of course, Chandrila isn’t the only city it’s this problem, several local school districts are having this same problem.” 

Holdo nods, listening intently on Rey’s pitch. “And the angle? Political? Human interest?”

“I think you can work with both. It’s political because the people elect the School Board that create these policies. I mean, this is people’s tax money at work.” Rey gets a few chuckles at that line, which motivates her to continue. “It’s a human interest story too because people don’t like reading about children going without food.” 

Holdo smiles, not unkindly. “I think that we can work that sort of story into the paper.” Rey smiles at that response. Her first piece on her own. She glances at Rose who gives her a thumbs up. 

“No,” the gruff voice of Ben Solo sounds. Dread runs through Rey’s body. “Whilst depressing, these stories notoriously go nowhere. It’s been done. There’s more pressing news out there.” 

“More pressing than local children starving?” Rey retorts before she can even think otherwise.

“According to what readers want, yes,” Solo responds, voice impassive as he does. Rey wants to scream. 

“Do you think people only want the newest shiny most titillating story? This story is important. If kids aren’t eating because their family can not afford to pay the lunch debt, then people deserve to know. Our schools are failing these kids!” Rey rants. 

“I do think people want the most titillating story. That’s what all the research and sales show with every other newspaper. I’ve been doing this for a while believe it or not.” Solo pauses, choosing his next words cautiously. “Careful, Ms. Niima, you don’t want your ideals to blind you. Besides, it looks like a similar story was done earlier this year by Snap Wexley.”

Rey flushes at this response, chastened. She didn’t check the newspaper log to see if this story had been written. She checked other newspapers, but not her own. She feels foolish. She bows her head in acknowledgment. Benjamin Solo won this round. 

§

“The new owner is a fucking asshole,” Rey fumes, staring down the neck of her beer bottle. These after-work drinks were supposed to be celebratory, not a pity party.

“Fucking tell me about it, my god,” Finn grumbles. He’s sitting next to his wife, Rose, in the booth with Rey across from them. “Phasma had all the photos ready for approval for the sports section, then fucking Solo came around and vetoed half of them. He then sat with me for three hours going through every single picture from the game until we found one that pleased him. Like, it’s a fucking high school football game, bro, chill.” 

Finn is the sports photographer for the Chandrila Journal. He spends most of his days going to various school sporting events. He takes a lot of pride in his work and the entire sports section of the paper. The fact that Mr. Solo cannot recognize that is a bit of a downer. 

“I’ve never seen Holdo so angry. She looked like she was about to find a way to kill him and make it look like an accident. And we all know that it’s possible, too, given her old reporting days,” Rose supplies, taking a swig of her white wine. Rose adores Holdo. She thinks of her as some sort of journalism hero, mostly because Holdo won a bunch of awards for her reporting of a serial killer terrorizing Coruscant. She even got to interview the killer in prison. 

Rey sighs. At least Finn and Rose get their stuff published. They don’t get it. Not really. “I’m going to get another beer, I’ll be right back,” she tells them as she walks to the bar. 

The Cantina is the dive bar right across from the newsroom. It’s where everyone goes after work to unwind and work through their stress. It’s also a good place to learn any possible leads for stories. The owner, Maz, has her eyes and ears everywhere. Rey walks up to the bar and flags down the bartender. She quickly orders another one of her beers and waits, observing the patrons of the bar.

“—and I’m telling you, man, there’s this room where once you enter it, you are literally entering an orgy. I’ve never experienced anything like that. Like someone was constantly touching you.” Rey overhears. Her ears perk up at the word orgy. Not typically something that you hear someone loudly discuss in a bar. At least not this early in the night. 

Rey scopes out the voice. “The top floor is his domain apparently. The Master of the house. It’s pretty exclusive, so, like, hardly anyone has seen him. I don’t even know who he is,” the voice—Poe Dameron, Rey realizes—continues. Poe’s a charming, and loud, copy editor. His mess of curls bounces as he uses his whole body to speak. 

After getting her beer, Rey walks over to him, really he’s only a few feet down. “What on earth are you talking about?” 

“Oh hey, Niima, heard about the pitch meeting. The new owner is a dick on an epic proportion,” Poe welcomes. Rey simply nods in acknowledgment, raising her eyebrows. Poe’s little horde of copy editors and assistants all snicker at Poe. They all think Poe is hot shit. “Come sit,” Poe offers.

Rey obeys, still waiting for Poe to answer her question. “Have you ever heard of the House of Ren, Rey?” Poe asks, voice lowering slightly for dramatic effect. He grips her shoulder and leans in. Rey can smell the alcohol on his breath. She shakes her head. Poe continues, “It’s quite notorious. People get red envelopes in the mail inviting them to this country manor. You dress up and wear a mask, and when you arrive—well debauchery ensues.” Poe smirks at this, taking a sip of his whiskey. 

“And you received one of these invitations?” Rey surmises. She’s intrigued. It seems like there’s a secret society right under their noses. 

Poe nods. “I have no idea how people are chosen. I assume other guests suggest people, but the whole thing is anonymous. You don’t really know who else is there. Which is part of the fun, of course, because then you can let loose without any sort of societal pressures. No pressure, just pleasure or something like that.” 

Rey needs to know more, her brain switching into journalist mode. “And what sort of things do you do there? I overheard something about orgies?” 

Poe laughs, amused that Rey heard him loudly talk about participating in an orgy. “There are levels to the mansion. The first level is pretty tame—mostly dining, dancing, and heavy petting. The second level is more intense but still vanilla. But it’s also the level with the orgy. The third level is pretty kinky, like that Rihanna song? Chain and whips and stuff,” Poe pauses watching Rey’s eyes widen as he talks. “The final level is the most exclusive. It’s the Master of the House’s playroom. Sometimes he’ll invite an audience to watch him do a scene, but for the most part, it’s just private sessions. Calls himself Kylo Ren.” 

Rey shivers. What kind of man would organize such a thing? A wealthy man with control issues, she presumes. “And how long have you been attending these soirées?” she asks. 

“About a month. Events are hosted every other week. Apparently, he hosts kinky dinner parties too, but I’ve never been invited to those. Yet,” Poe supplies. “Why the sudden curiosity, Rey?” 

Rey shrugs. “I’ve just never heard of such a thing. It sounds like it could be pretty dangerous.” And thrilling, she adds in her head. Maybe that’s just because she hasn’t gotten laid in a while. 

Poe grins, cheeky. “The danger is half the fun.”

“Maybe,” Rey agrees. “Well, Poe, it’s been fascinating chatting with you, but I should head back to my table.” 

“See you later, Rey. Hey, who knows, maybe the House of Ren will lead to your first big story.” He hugs her goodbye and Rey walks back to her table. 

She sits back down, across from Finn and Rose. She can tell that Rose is starting to get tipsy based on her increasing handsy-ness with her husband. Rose is an affectionate drunk. “What was that all about, Reybee?” she asks, giggling slightly at the nickname. 

“Oh nothing,” Rey responds, already lost in her little world, imagining a mansion and large, wandering hands. 

Finn raises his eyebrows as though he does not believe that for one second. Thankfully, he doesn’t press her on it. 

She ponders on Poe’s last words before she leaves. Maybe the House of Ren will lead her to something bigger.

§

The next week passes by quickly for Rey. She works on some fluff pieces to help fill up space for the paper. Rose’s story about the businessman and the prostitutes has turned into something so much more explosive, causing Rose to work longer hours. Each day that Rey enters the office, Rose is already there and on her fifth cup of coffee. This is the kind of story the paper needs, and they just might be the first paper in the area to break the story. 

Mr. Solo is an ever-present feature in the newsroom, constantly bouncing between editors’ offices and even reading over writers’ shoulders as they type. Thankfully, he has yet to do that with Rey because she’s pretty sure she’d bite him. He probably doesn’t even deem her little fluff pieces worthy to examine, since he knows sooooo much about news, 

Over the weekend, Rey lounges at home. Finn’s covering a soccer tournament, and Rose is still working on her big story. Rey tries to do some research on the House of Ren. She sits cross-legged on her bed, a cup of tea on the nightstand, glasses on, and clad in sweats. Nothing useful comes up when she searches. She even tries some pretty seedy message boards and the local subreddit. Nothing. Rey’s almost impressed, this secret society is truly that—a secret.

Desperate for answers, Rey even takes a drive into the countryside, trying to find any sort of mansion that could be the House of Ren. It must be really off the beaten path because she comes up with nothing. Frustrated, she drives back to her apartment and drinks an entire bottle of wine in the bath. It’s been a week. 

Soon enough, it’s Monday and Rey is once again in the conference room ready for another pitch meeting. Mr. Solo is there again. Holdo does not try to hide her contempt for this man. Rey and Holdo are on the same page. 

He’s mostly silent this time for this meeting, letting Holdo lead most of the proceedings. Rey is quiet in this meeting. She’s got nothing of worth to offer, and she’ll probably be writing fluff pieces about a book club in a senior care facility anyway, so it’s not like it matters. 

“Miss Niima, you’ve been oddly silent today. What’s your pitch?” Solo’s deep voice calls out. Rey jumps as the somber tone hits her. 

She looks down at her little notebook which she knows is empty. Panicked, she quickly racks her brain for anything. Anything at all. “The House of Ren,” she blurts out without thinking. 

Mr. Solo quirks his eyebrow. “Oh? Explain.”

Rey clears her throat. “I have a source who says he got an invite to a manor where um,” Rey pauses, blushing as she tries to phrase this in a workplace appropriate way. “Um, lewd affairs occur. It operates as some sort of secret society lurking the underbelly of our city. I think it’s worth investigating.” 

Mr. Solo simply smiles. “This isn’t Playboy, we don’t want to offend our readers with discussing graphic details,” he responds. He isn’t saying no, though, so Rey takes this as a positive sign. 

“You don’t need to focus on any graphic details if you focus on the secret society element. Who knows, maybe there’s something dangerous involved? This is exactly the sort of titillating pieces you were asking for, sir.” Rey’s in the zone now. Confident. She will take no prisoners, and Mr. Solo will let her write her piece. She’s certain. 

“Will you get an insider’s perspective, Miss Niima? Experience the alleged manor yourself?” Solo asks, pressing his hands down on the table. Rey stares as his biceps flex as he does so. He’s really too attractive. 

Rey holds her ground, staring down Solo as though it’s a challenge. “I’ll take me where the story leads, but I won’t do anything unethical if that’s what you’re implying, sir,” she retorts, firm and in control. She doesn’t know if Solo is going to turn this into a full-blown argument or not. The ball is in his court.

Solo smiles, looking down at his computer. “Of course not, Miss Niima. I would never.” 

Holdo interrupts before the two could continue any further. “It sounds juicy, Niima. Follow up with your source but don’t do anything illegal.”

Holy shit. Rey has a story. An honest to god story. 

The meeting wraps up quickly after that. Rey’s in a daze for most of it, too shocked that her half-assed pitch about a secret society worked. She’s gotta talk to Poe after this. Rey walks out of the conference room, creating mental to-do lists of ways to get more information. 

“Niima. A word,” the terse voice of Holdo calls out. Rey bites her lip to keep her from cursing. What now. 

“Yes, boss?” She asks, hoping that she doesn’t sound too rude. Holdo raises her eyebrows in a warning. 

“Solo wants to be personally involved in the story, be sure to include him in any emails. He expects a one-on-one meeting this Thursday. Good luck,” Holdo asserts before spinning around and walking away. She doesn’t even wait for Rey’s confirmation. After all, it is Benjamin Solo’s newspaper. 

Rey can never catch a break. 

§

“Sorry, Rey, can’t help you, any person that goes into the House of Ren takes a vow of secrecy.”

“But you were talking about escapades at the mansion! I just need more answers,” Rey retorts. She’s about five minutes from begging. It’s Thursday, in twenty minutes she’s got a meeting with Mr. Solo and she has nothing. Every day she goes straight to where the copy editors are and ask Poe more questions about the House of Ren. 

Poe grins, “Of course I can talk about what happened, but I can’t tell you who was there. That would ruin the whole purpose of masked identities. It’s meant to be anonymous.” Poe pauses, leaning back against his chair, his legs spread wide in front of him. He taps his red pen against the desk as he takes in Rey’s appearance. 

Rey knows that she looks frenzied. Her hair is frizzy from sleeping in her three little buns. She fell asleep while trying to search on Google Earth where this mansion could potentially be. Her socks are mismatched and this is definitely the same exact outfit she wore on Monday unwashed. Overall, it’s been a pretty miserable week for her. 

“So there’s a potential to know who is at the party. It’s just a rule that you follow. What happens if you break a rule?” She questions. 

“You get punished, obviously,” Poe responds as though it was obvious. For the underworld that he inhabits, maybe it is. 

She pauses, thinking. “How do they even know if you broke a rule?” 

“I don’t know, but I really don’t intend on finding out. I’ve heard stories of Kylo Ren being absolutely ruthless in punishment and I am not about that life at all. But from what I know he’s got eyes and ears everywhere.” Poe starts turning around in his chair, as though finished with this conversation. 

“Eyes and ears everywhere, so he’s someone with a lot of clout in town, right?” Rey presses. She needs something, anything for her meeting with Solo that she’s probably going to be late for. 

Poe sighs, exasperated. “Yes, probably. Now, I don’t mean to be a dick, but I actually have work to do, so leave. Now.” 

Rey knows when to fold. She nods and says goodbye to the copy edit team. She whisks down the hall towards her cubicle. She’s got about ten minutes to meet Solo at the coffee shop down the street. She’s not sure why they’re meeting at a coffee shop, but coffee at the company’s expense is something she’ll never pass up. Rey sets her stuff down at her cubicle, grabbing her other notes and her spare notebook and stuffing them into her green tote purse. 

“Aren’t you supposed to meeting with Mr. Asshole Owner in a few minutes, Rey?” the soft voice of Rose asks. 

Rey tries to flatten her frizzy hair with her hands as best as she can. She spritzes on a bit of perfume. At least she remembered to put on deodorant this morning. “Yes, but I wanted to see if I could get any more info before the meeting,” she replies. 

Rose plops down on top of Rey’s desk. Again. Rey needs to tell her that her desk isn’t a place to sit. Now is not the time though. “And did you—get any more info that is.”

Rey grabs her jacket. It might rain later on and she doesn’t want to take any chances. “....No.” 

Rose raises her eyebrows. Rey’s certain that she’s judging her. Judging the way that Rey cannot get anywhere with this story. Well, Rey isn’t the perfect journalist that Rose is. Plus, this story is like trying to catch a ghost. “Well, good luck, dear. I’m here if you need anything,” Rose utters before hopping off Rey’s desk and walking back to her desk.

Rey heads to the exit of the building, smiling politely at the security guard at the front. She can’t help but think of Poe’s comment about how this Kylo Ren has eyes and ears everywhere. Maybe he’s watching her right now, laughing at her inability to suss out his identity. Watching her walk down the street to the Starbucks on the corner, eager to see her admit to her boss’s boss that she has no leads. 

She arrives at the Starbucks, feeling jumpy and paranoid. There’s no one watching her, she thinks to herself. It’s just the sleep deprivation. “Your late,” a deep voice murmurs behind her, low but stern. 

Rey nearly jumps out of her skin, “Jesus Christ!” she yells and few of the guests turn to look at her. Benjamin Solo just seems entertained. 

“Sorry,” she replies, not sounding apologetic at all. “An interview ran late.” 

The two stand in line awkwardly. Rey pretends to read the menu, glancing at Solo every once in a while. He seems utterly focused on his phone. “An interview with Poe again?” 

She turns to look at him, hating that she has to tilt her head slightly upwards just to look him in the eye. “How did you—“

He cuts her off, “It’s my newspaper. I got eyes and ears everywhere.”

Rey pauses, a chill running down her back. Could it be? No. It’s a common enough phrase that it’s gotta just be a coincidence. Before she can respond, it’s their turn to order. Solo orders an americano. Rey gets a flat white with toffee nut. And an extra shot of espresso. Might as well treat herself if she’s not paying for it. Solo pays for the drinks and the two go and find a table to sit at while they wait for their drinks. 

“I take it Dameron didn’t give you much,” Solo assumes. 

Rey fidgets. She leans down to grab her notebooks out of her purse. “All I got is that everyone takes a vow of secrecy. There seems to be some sort of set of rules that they must follow. And the leader of this organization has some sort of power within the community,” she summarizes for him.

The barista calls out their drinks. “I got them,” Solo replies as he gets up and walks to the bar where the drinks wait. Rey does not stare at his thighs while he walks. She doesn’t. Because that would mean that she’s interested in her boss’s thighs. Which she is not. 

She’s not.

Ben sits back down, thighs tucked away from her line of vision. Rey takes a sip of her drink, hoping that he doesn’t see her blushing. “How do you presume that this Kylo Ren has power?” Ben asks as soon as the two are settled. 

“Just based on some of the things Poe has said,” she remarks. “Plus, if you own a mansion, then you probably have some form of power or wealth.”

“So it’s just an assumption, then? You don’t have any tangible proof that this Kylo Ren is powerful or wealthy. And any information that you do have comes from someone who will not be interviewed on the record. Am I getting all of this correct?” Solo asks, taking a sip of his coffee as he does. He looks way too casual for someone hellbent at destroying her in almost every way. 

Rey stares at a splash of spilled coffee from when he set their drinks down on the table. “Yes, but it’s hard to track down a secret society.” 

“Miss Niima, if investigating a piece is too difficult for you, then maybe this isn’t the right field for you,” he responds, not unkindly. “I took a look at your resume. You didn’t even major in journalism in college. You majored in psychology. What made you choose a field that you didn’t study?” He looks at her as he asks, as though measuring her reactions and body language. 

She schools her face impassively. She refuses to let this man get the best of her. “I think that you need a good knowledge of psychology to do well in journalism.”

He leans back in his chair. “That didn’t answer my question. Let me rephrase it. When you were in college, did you intend on going into journalism?” Rey shakes her head no. “What did you intend on doing?”

Rey sighs, taking a long sip of her coffee. “Mr. Solo—“ she starts. 

“There’s no need to be so formal, Miss Niima. You can call me Ben,” he interrupts. 

“Ben. It is true that I didn’t intend on going into journalism initially. I wanted to be a child psychologist, but I couldn’t afford grad school and Rose had a job lined up here and so I figured I might as well apply. I’m a good writer and I have experience doing research and interviews from my psychology degree. I may not be a conventional reporter, but I am a reporter. I like my job.” 

“Even when a story seems impossible?” 

“Even then. It’s just a puzzle that I need to solve,” she finishes. 

“Well, forgive me if I sound rude, but you look like you’ve barely slept. I appreciate your commitment to this story, but you are helping no one by wearing yourself thin,” Ben begins. Rey didn’t think she looked that terrible. Then again, he’s an asshole. “Take the rest of the day. And tomorrow. Rest. Do a hobby. Begin again on Monday, Ben commands, his ton absolute.

“But—“ 

“That’s an order, Miss Niima. Go home.” He then stands, throwing his now empty cup into the trash, and walks out the door, leaving Rey alone at a Starbucks. 

She stares at the empty chair across from her. What the hell just happened? There’s no way that just happened. She shakes her head, trying to shake away the events that happened. Rey gets out of her chair, smiles blankly at the baristas, and walk out of the store. 

Stupid asshole owner guy, 

As she walks back to the office, she thinks about how she’ll have to tell Rose and Finn and possibly even Poe that she was basically kicked out of her job for a while. She’ll have to explain to them that she failed. And they will be so  _ nice  _ and so  _ understanding  _ and Rey doesn’t want any of it. She doesn’t need pity. She needs alcohol and a bath.

She gets to the office and doesn’t even bother going back to her cubicle. Going back means that Rose will be there and she doesn’t want that. Rey waves at the security guard before walking towards the elevator that leads to the underground parking garage. Her car is parked in the back corner of the garage, a run down green 2006 Toyota Corolla. She sighs as she twists her key to unlock the door. She gets into her car, staring at the dashboard and fighting back tears. Maybe this long weekend will be a good thing. She’ll take a bath, maybe stop at a Target to get a face mask, drink some wine, masturbate. It’ll be good. 

This is her mantra as she turns her car on and pulls out of the parking lot. Her drive home is painless, considering that the majority of people are at work instead of driving around. She makes a stop at Target and gets wine and bubble bath and a face mask. She stops at her favorite Chinese place and picks up some late lunch. If she’s not going to work, then dammit she’s going to try and live her best life. 

She gets home to her apartment complex. It’s several stories high with Rey residing on the fourth floor. The only elevator is in the back of the building, so Rey mostly takes the stairs to her place. She enters the lobby area and makes a bee-line to the mailboxes. If she’s going to do her self care right, then she isn’t going to leave her house. She fumbles with her keys and bags as she tries to get her mail. And of course, half the mail falls onto the floor. 

Rey bends over to pick up the fallen mail. Most of it is bills. There’s a coupon for Victoria’s Secret. But behind the coupon is an envelope the color of blood. Rey pulls her hand off of it as if it burned her. It can’t be, can it? 

_ He has eyes and ears everywhere.  _

She quickly stuffs the envelope into her purse and walks up the stairs before anyone notices her. Somebody might be watching her. 

She gets to her apartment and drops her stuff on her dining room table haphazardly. She looks at her tote bag, as though she has x-day vision and can see within the her purse to that pesky red envelope. 

Solo said not to work on the story. Solo is also an asshole. But he’s also her boss and could fire her. Opening the envelope doesn’t necessarily mean that she’s working on the story though, right? It might not even be a House of Ren invite. It could be a promotional thing for one of the many coupon mailing lists she’s on. Yeah that could be it. 

Rey opens up her bag and grabs the infamous envelope. Her address is printed on the envelope in innocuous formatting, giving no indication of who might’ve sent it. The return address is a PO Box in town under the name Ren giving her no further information either. She runs her fingernail under the envelope and opens it. Pulling the invitation out of the fold. 

You are Cordially Invited

Miss Rey Niima 

to an evening of merriment and debauchery 

on October 10th at 8PM 

1300 Hemlock Lane 

Chandrila, NY USA 12165 

Dress to impress, Anonymity required. Present evidence of clean sexual health upon entry. 

The House of Ren expects you soon.

Rey drops the invitation on her linoleum floor. It’s real. It’s here. It’s this weekend. She snatched up the invite off the floor. Does she do it? Does she risk it? What does it mean by anonymity required? Should she wear a mask? She does not own a mask. Where does one even buy a mask?

Rey pauses, realizing that she’s already making plans like this is what she’s going to do. And maybe it is. Maybe she’s going to do this. If not for the story, then for herself. Because after the meeting today, maybe she deserves an evening of merriment and debauchery. 

What if she just indulges, instead of spending her life putting herself and letting other people make decisions on her behalf? Would that really be that bad? 

She doesn’t have to participate, even. She can just look. Experience a world of hedonism, of putting her pleasure and desires before anything else. 

Yes, Rey thinks, that sounds exactly like what she needs. 

With a fresh bout of determination, Rey sets her Chinese in the fridge. She unpacks her Target bags. After a quick Google search, she finds the local Planned Parenthood to get an STI screening. She also finds a masquerade mask at one of the pop up Halloween shops in town. Thank goodness for Halloween. 

Rey takes a deep breath. This is it. She’s doing this. Story or no, she’s going to a House of Ren party. Saturday couldn’t come soon enough. 

§

Saturday brought forth a sort of strange intensity. The anticipation for the evening was palpable, so Rey spent most of her day restlessly pacing her room, waiting for an appropriate time to get ready. She keeps her hair down, a change of pace from her typical three bun hairstyle people are used to from her. She puts on the special black dress she bought for this specific occasion—plunging neckline with slits up the legs, lacy, sexy, cool. 

She gets in her car—mask, medial form, and invitation placed on her passenger seat. According to her phone, the mansion is a twenty-minute drive from her, way on the outskirts of town. She taps her fingers against her steering wheel, her body full of nerves. Taking a deep breath, she turns out towards the country. 

She makes it about ninety-eight percent of the way before her car decides that it didn’t want to work anymore. All the bells and whistles lighting up on her dashboard, indicating some sort of electrical problem. She glances at the time on her phone— 7:59. Great. Now she’s almost definitely going to be late. 

Rey glances at her car, whimpering mournfully at the prospect of trying to fix it once more. It’ll have to wait for another day though because she has a party to go to. 

Hiking her skirt up, Rey makes the final trek to the mansion. Her ankles roll slightly as she tries to walk with heels on a dirt road. A couple of minutes into her walk, she spots the mansion on the horizon. 

An iron gate greets her as she approaches the mansion. The gate is open, as though the mansion itself is greeting her into its imposing world. The place is huge—more akin to Pemberley than anything she’s ever seen. The drive is a wide circle with a fountain directly in the middle. There’s a garage off to the side where people’s cars are being parked by some sort of valet. If she squints, she notices that the valet is wearing a tight pair of briefs, a black vest, a mask, and nothing else. She quickly averts her eyes. The evening has already begun, she supposes. 

As she approaches the front entrance, she places her mask on her head, tying the strings in the back. The door is already shut. She hopes that just because she’s a few minutes late that doesn’t mean that she missed out on an entire evening. Most parties the time on the invite isn’t too strict. Rey knocks on the door before she thinks too much of it. A young man with slicked-back brown hair and a nervous expression opens the door. Rey takes in his appearance. He has what looks like a dog collar on, a black harness with a silver loop in the center of his chest, and a pair of skin-tight black briefs. 

“Invitation please, ma’am,” he stammers, not quite meeting her eyes. Rey could get used to this. 

She hands him the invitation and her health report without a word. He glances at them quickly, before nodding and shifting slightly so she could enter. 

“The evening already began, but there’s always a place for you in the mansion, no matter where. We ask that you create a pseudonym for the sake of privacy, and also swear that you will never tell a soul who was here,” the doorman informs her. 

Rey pauses, “What happens if I do tell?” 

He glares at her, as though annoyed that she would even consider such a thing. “Not only will you receive a lifetime ban from the House, but the Master of the House will punish you as he sees fit,” he replies stiffly. 

Rey simply nods. It lines up with what Poe told her. “And where can I find the Master of the House?” she inquires. 

“He’s quite busy. Usually, he only invites guests into his chambers.” 

“It’s just that my car broke down just down the road. It’s why I’m late actually, I had to walk the last little bit of the drive. So, um, I just need someone to help me with my car. Or something,” she finishes. She feels awkward under the strange gaze of the doorman. 

He sighs, as though annoyed at her babbling about her car. She’s pretty certain that this man hates her. “Master isn’t going to like this,” he mumbles under his breath. He lifts his chin and says to her, “If you would follow me, please.” 

And then he’s off into the mansion. In the distance, Rey can hear moans and shouts and screams of pleasure. The evening of debauchery is in full force. She glances to her right towards what she presumes is the parlor. A woman is perched on top of another woman’s lap, worshipping every inch of her exposed skin. Across the room, a man is receiving a blow job while he eats his dinner. Rey’s arousal stirs at the images. She wants to continue to watch, to witness the man coming undone, to see if those women take it a step further, but the doorman is leading her deeper into the mansion. 

There are people everywhere. Rey’s surprised at how many people are at the event. Surely with this many people around, there has to have been a moment where the information slips. People making out against the walls of the first floor. When she arrives at the staircase, she sees people bending over the railing, taking their pleasure without pretense. Men and women alike wander the halls devoid of any clothing, save for the mask wrapped securely around their heads. 

Rey and the doorman make their way up the stairs to the second floor. When they arrive at the landing for the second floor, Rey can hear the moans and cries of ecstasy. She recalls Poe saying that this is the orgy floor. She starts taking steps towards the morning, her curiosity insatiable in that moment, but the doorman shakes his head at her. 

“If you stop on every floor to see what’s in store, then you will never see Master Kylo. See him first and then you can join the party,” he calls out to her, beckoning her to the second set of stairs towards the third floor. 

“And what about you?” she can’t help but ask. “Surely you aren’t going to be working all night? Will you be partaking in the festivities?” 

The doorman smiles mirthfully. “I serve the house. And I serve Master Kylo. Pleasing my Master is the most important thing that I will do,” he replies. 

Rey nods, not quite understanding but still trying to be polite. She researched anything she could about BDSM before coming here, but nothing could prepare her for the real thing. She follows the peculiar man up yet another flight of stairs. When they arrive at the landing of this particular set of stairs, it’s strangely silent. The moans and cries from the floor below are murmurs on this level. 

“This way please, Miss,” the doorman murmurs, leading her toward the west wing of the third floor. They walk and Rey realizes that this is just a hallway of doors. Some people are standing just outside of the doors, hands in their pants, or under their skirts as they stare at the door. Peepholes, Rey thinks, the doors have peepholes. A shiver runs through her core as she thinks about people watching her come undone. She didn’t even know that was something that she wanted until just now, with all her senses heightened to think about just one thing—unbelievable pleasure. 

While the two walk down the seemingly never-ending hall, Rey decides to sneak a chance at looking through one of the peepholes. She walks up to the imposing wooden door and takes a peek through the small hole. In the room, she sees what she presumes are a man and a woman. The woman is tied to some sort of bench, ass in the air. The man runs his hands down her back, whispering something in the woman’s ear. He walks away from her, rummaging through a bin in the corner of the room. He finds what he needs, a black whip sort of thing—with a long shaft and dozens of leather tresses at the end. A flogger, she realizes in surprise. 

Before she can see the man utilize the flogger on the woman, she feels tapping on her shoulder. It’s the doorman, looking annoyed that their journey to his Master has been interrupted once more. Rey thinks it’s probably wise to keep on the good side of the man. “Sorry,” she whispers to him, not sounding sorry at all. He looks like he’s desperately trying not to roll his eyes at her. 

“Come along, we are almost to our destination.” 

Rey reluctantly follows the man to the end of the hall. It seems to just end. There’s not another set of stairs or another room to enter. There appears to be nothing. Rey can’t help but wonder if she’s been had by this man. 

She continues to think that until the man presses down on a part of the wall and a hidden door opens to another staircase leading upwards. The stairs are dimly lit as Rey follows the doorman up, up, up to the final level of sin. When they land at the top of the stairs, she sees a giant attic type room. There’s a window covering the wall to her right, showcasing the night sky and the driveway that she walked in on. She shivers thinking of the Master of the House staring at his guests as they arrive. The voyeurism beginning before you even enters the house. 

In the middle of the room stands a giant of a man. His broad frame facing away from her as he swings a cane along the ass of the man strapped into a set of stocks, a prisoner to the whims of the man above him. Rey watches with thinly-veiled interest as the two men act out their scene. With each swing of the cane, the strapped man thanks to his Master. Every once in a while, the Master says something filthy to the man—calling him a pathetic whore. Rey’s pussy clenches at the deep husk of his voice.

There’s something oddly familiar about this man—about his movements and the way he carries himself. Rey just can’t quite put her finger on it.

The scene continues for several minutes. Rey fidgets in the corner, all senses wired to the scene in front of her. It’s intense and brutal, but also beautiful and oh so pleasurable. The caning seems to end when the ginger man is tearfully counting the strikes to twenty. The Master—Kylo Ren, Rey supposes—walks over to a table nearby, pulling open a drawer to grab something, a tube of some sort. As he turns, he spots Rey and the doorman lurking in the corner. His eyes, somewhat obscured beneath a thick black mask, widen as they fixate on Rey. 

A shiver runs through Rey’s core. She knows this man. She definitely knows this man. 

Kylo Ren ignores her, choosing to go back to his victim. He caresses his hand through the ginger locks of hair of the man on the table. Rey can barely make out the praise that Kylo gives the man, telling him he took those strikes so good. He squeezes a dollop of cream out of the bottle he grabbed and massages it onto the man’s ass cheeks. He then undoes the bindings, slowly helping the man up. Kylo leaves the man to adjust to his surroundings before walking over to a mini-fridge tucked underneath some cabinets and gives him some water. 

“Mitaka, send for the Captain” Kylo murmurs, his voice gruff and deep. His voice, Rey realizes, sounds exactly like Ben Solos. 

Holy shit. Kylo Ren is Ben Solo. 

Mitaka scurries away, as Kylo examines Rey. Rey opens her mouth as if to start speaking, but he cuts her off. “We’ll talk. But right now this is his time,” Kylo explains, pointing at the man currently chugging an entire bottle of water. “Do you need anything? The Captain will be here in just a moment for you,” Kylo soothes the man, who has to be the same age as Kylo, but somehow allows Kylo to talk to him like that. 

Huh. 

Kylo continues to dote on the man and Rey continues to stare at the scene, so unlike the scene between these two from earlier. She didn’t even know that Ben—Kylo?—was capable of being kind like that. 

The doorman—Mitaka—returns not too long after, a tall blonde woman trailing behind him. The woman is dressed in a silver corset, her icy blonde hair sleeked back, making her look fierce. Frankly, Rey has never seen a more striking and beautiful woman. “Master Kylo,” she greets as she enters the threshold and immediately walks to Kylo and the submissive. It’s like Rey isn’t even a part of the room. She runs her hand through the submissive’s hair, whispering something quietly to him. 

Rey lets the three of them chat amongst themselves, content with just taking in the room. The room is black, red, and white with sleek lines all around. It’s longer than it is wide, a true attic room with a sloping ceiling. Pushed against the eastern wall are several rows of cabinets and drawers, all black. Against the northern wall is a strange is a black X frame with straps attached to it. Rey shivers at the thought of being strapped to it. She moves across the room to the wall on her right—the west wall made up of windows. She glances down to the ground below. 

“We’re alone now,” the deep voice calls out, almost echoing across the room. 

Rey turns around from the windows—taking in Ben/Kylo for truly the first time. He’s fully dressed, in a full suit not unlike the ones that he wears to work. Now that she sees him, it’s so obvious that he’s Ben.

“I have questions.”

Ben laughs, although it’s devoid of any humor. “I would be concerned if you didn’t.”

“Why did you green light the story if you knew that it was going to expose something you created?” she starts. 

He doesn’t answer at first, instead focusing on finishing the clean-up from the scene. Deep down Rey knows that it’s a power play, making her wait for his response. “I knew that it would go nowhere, but I was curious to see what you would do with it.”

“You’re an asshole for doing that,” Rey retorts. 

“Maybe,” he agrees. He smirks, a bit of dimple showing. “What are you going to do, punish me?”

“Maybe I will. Maybe it’s time for someone to take you down a peg. I think that you have too much power and too much free time to wield it,” Rey responds, mustering as much confidence as possible. 

His smile grows, showcasing his uneven teeth, pink lips stretching. Rey finds it endearing. She also wants to bite his lip. “I think that you are a brat whose bark is worse than her bite. You don’t scare me, Miss Niima,” he pauses, moving towards her so that they are just inches apart—chest to chest. His gloved hand grips her chin, forcing her to look at him. “What do you say, shall we play?”

Rey nods quickly, staring into the vast sea of his whiskey brown eyes, almost hypnotized by them. Ben tsks. “I need to hear words, Rey. This doesn’t work if you can’t communicate.” 

“Yes,” she breathes out. 

“Yes—??”

“...Yes, Master Kylo.”

“Good girl,” he praises. Ben—Kylo? She’s not sure what to call him—runs his hands down her arms, a gentle caress that makes her shiver. “I’m not going to do anything too intense for you, just a simple scene and by the end of it, hopefully, we both get off. If you ever get uncomfortable at any point, please use your safe word. You do have a safe word, right?”

Rey panics slightly because no she does not have a safe word. She did not think that she would need one as she mostly thought that she’d be a passive observer of the events of the evening. Ben must have noticed that she was uncertain about her situation. “It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Most people here utilize a stoplight system, with red meaning stop,” he explains almost softly. He’s not demeaning or condescending, instead, he genuinely expresses interest in making sure that she understands what she’s about to do. 

“I’ll use the stoplight,” she murmurs. She feels suddenly like she’s three inches tall. She feels small and pliable compared to the opposing force that is Master Kylo. 

Once her safeword has been established, Ben Solo seems to transform into Master Kylo. He stands up taller, his eyes seem to darken. He’s in full Dom mode Rey realizes. She’s done enough research to know that there’s a headspace people go into when they are performing these sorts of scenes.

“Now, Miss Niima, I’m going to ask you some questions. With each question answered, I want you to remove an article of clothing, starting with your shoes. Say yes if you understand.”

Rey swallows. Her throat has gone dry in anticipation or nerves or some combination of the two. “Yes, I understand,” she replies, voice hoarse. 

“Good.” He grabs her by the elbow and gently pushes her into the middle of the room. “Have you ever done a BDSM scene before?”

She shakes her head. Kylo pulls her hair as she does, as though warning her. “No, sir,” she responds. After she answers, she quickly slips off her heels, kicking them to the side of the room. 

“What interests you the most about BDSM?”

“The power play. The way that someone is in control of someone else, even if it’s just for a little while,” she replies licking her lips as she does. Quickly, she grabs the hem of her dress and lifts it over her head, leaving her in nothing but her bra and underwear. All for Master Kylo to see. 

Kylo simply walks around her, as though appraising a piece of art. Rey’s never felt so evaluated in her life. Briefly, she wonders if her undergarments are pleasing enough for him. It’s the nicest set she owns—which is to say they’re the only matching set she owns. His next question surprises her. “Do you find me attractive?”

Her response is quick, “Yes.” She undoes her bra, exposing her breasts to the cool air of the room. Her nipples harden from both the chill and her arousal. 

“Have you always found me attractive?” he asks. 

Rey’s response is as quick as before, her voice just above a whisper. “Yes.” She hooks her thumbs around her black panties, shimming them down her legs before unceremoniously throwing them towards where the rest of her clothes are. 

And there she stood, completely bare for him while he’s completely clothed. The tips of his gloved fingers trace her skin, following the patterns of freckles along her arms, done her breasts and stomach until he’s cupping her pussy in his hand. Two of his fingers caress her folds as a third laps up some of her wetness, teasing but not quite entering her. A soft moan leaves Rey’s mouth.

Kylo chuckles lowly as he withdraws his fingers away from her pussy. “Kneel,” he commands. His gloved hands point toward the floor, and Rey can catch her pussy juices glisten off the glove. She drops down, as gracefully as possible, onto her knees. She looks up at Kylo, waiting for his next instruction. 

Instead of speaking, he simply moves away from her. She glances up toward him and notices him rummaging through some of the drawers in the room. She quickly averts her eyes after that, deciding that she’d rather be surprised at what he’s going to do to her. 

About a minute later, he returns. With one hand, he grips her cheeks forcing her to look at him. “I’m going to cuff your hands behind you and then you are going to suck my cock. But before I do that, I need you to spread your legs. I’ve got something for you.”

Rey quickly and eagerly does as she’s told, spreading her legs as wide as she can in this kneeling position. Kylo kneels next to her, waving a strange pink object in front of her. One part of it is a long skinny piece, that sort of looks like an alien finger. The other part is like a strange-looking egg. She realizes quickly that the egg part is going inside her, which means the alien finger will be right against her clit. And—oh. 

“You can only cum after I do,” Kylo says sternly. “Is that clear?” 

“Yes, sir,” Rey replies. Kylo slowly presses the egg inside her, adjusting it so that it fits her comfortably. Once it’s inside her, he makes quick work of putting a pair of padded cuffs on her wrists, locking them behind her. 

He then moves around her, inspecting his work. Her skin is flushed and she’s pretty sure that her pussy is dripping onto the floor. She knows deep down that she looks utterly and completely debauched. “You look quite pretty like this. Maybe next time, we will do this in front of an audience,” Kylo muses as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind Rey’s ear. Rey’s pussy clenches around the egg at the thought. 

He stands in front of her now, unbuckling his belt. Rey licks her lips in anticipation. Here we go, she thinks to herself. His cock springs out of his pants—hard, pink, and thick with a vein protruding slightly on the left side of his cock. It’s big, thicker than she would’ve thought and she cannot wait to wrap her lips around it. 

She moves closer so that it’s rubbing directly on her lips, pre-cum spreading across her lips. Slowly she opens her mouth wrapping it around the head of his cock and sucking slightly. She hears him groan above her causing her to sigh around his cock and take him just a little more. One of his hands fists her hair, forcing her to take more of him until she’s gagging slightly. 

And that’s when she begins to feel the vibrations, both inside her and directly on her clit. She moans at the sensation as she quickly glances at his other hand and the remote clenched in it. Kylo smirks as he notices her staring at the remote. “Remember, Rey, I cum first.”

And then the vibrations get more intense at his words. Rey’s eyes roll to the back of her head as she feels the intensity throughout her entire body. She focuses on his cock with a renewed interest, worshipping every inch of it with her mouth. She hums around his cock, enjoying the way he jerks deeper into her mouth at the sensation. His grip tightening in her hair. 

“That’s it, Rey. You look so pretty with your mouth around my cock. Looks like you belong there. Now fucking take it,” he growls as he grips her head, forcing her to take more of his cock. 

She chokes a little as she tries to relax her throat to accommodate all of him. She feels the head of his cock tickle the back of her throat. The vibrations in her pussy getting more and more intense. 

She pulls her mouth off his cock for a quick gasp of air. “Kylo, please, sir, I’m going to cum,” she whimpers, humping the ground slightly to see if she can get the egg deeper in her, to no avail. 

The vibrations stop. She whimpers at the loss, tears welling up in her eyes. “I fucking cum first. It’s the only rule. Are you going to be a good girl and obey or will I have to punish you?” 

Rey cannot look him directly in the eyes, keeping her gaze down at the floor. “I can be a good girl,” she whispers, so low that Kylo almost misses it. 

“Damn right. Now keep going.” And then he shoves his cock back down her throat, letting her gag around it for his pleasure. 

The vibrations do not continue, instead, Kylo is solely focused on his pleasure, fucking his cock down her throat, thoroughly enjoying using her. Rey goes pliant as she lets him use her for his pleasure, her eyes rolling back as she finally takes all of them, her nose pressing up against his pelvic bone. 

After a while, Kylo’s thrusts begin to grow erratic and soon Rey feels hot cum spew down her throat. The only warning she gets is his loud groan and a quick pull on her hair. She swallows it down, salty and sticky. It’s not the worst thing in the world, she decides. He keeps his cock in her as his orgasm subsides, before begrudgingly pulling out. He pets her hair. 

“Good girl. Took my cock so well. You may cum now,” he praises as he sets the vibrator at the highest setting it goes. 

It takes Rey very little time to reach completion, spasming and screaming as she clenches around the vibrator. Her legs shake from under her and she collapses onto the floor completely spent. The vibrations continue even after her orgasm making Rey randomly twitch in overstimulation. 

Kylo quickly turns off the vibrator, before kneeling and pulling it out of her abused pussy. He looks at Rey, an amused expression on his face. “You look completely used.” 

Rey laughs a little as Kylo undoes the cuffs behind her back. “I feel completely used.” 

“And that’s tame for me,” Kylo replies, “So tame that I’d almost call it vanilla.” 

Kylo helps Rey up from off the ground, escorting her to a chair set up in the corner of the room. He hands her a bottle of water, demanding that she drink the entire thing. “So, thoughts?” he posits. 

“When can we do that again?” she asks, knowing that she sounds overeager, but not caring. 

Ben laughs. He’s Ben now, Rey decides. He’s Ben when the scene ends. “Soon, I promise. Before that I want you to fill out a chart with all your kinks. It’ll help you discover more about yourself as well as help me construct a scene.”

“And what if I want to do what you do, too? What if I want to be a Dom?” Rey wonders. She feels Ben wrap a towel around her shoulders, and she welcomes the small warmth it gives her. 

“Then I can set up a scene with someone.”

Rey pauses, hands fidgeting with the towel. “Not with you?” 

“I only top. I haven’t been a bottom for someone in a long, long time,” Ben responds, voice firm, non-negotiable. Rey sighs. Maybe he’ll change his mind. 

“Now what?” Rey asks. 

“You can stay here with me while I do a couple more scenes, or you can go explore more of the manor. Or you can go home. The choice is yours.”

“Oh, about that,” Rey suddenly remembers. “Do you have a number for a tow truck or something? My car actually broke down a little ways back. I walked to the mansion.”

Ben laughs, full and good-hearted. “Of course you did. I can have the caretaker take a look, he’s pretty good with cars. He can get you home if need be.” 

“I still have questions, too.” She looks at him—at his shit-eating grin. “Off the record, of course. I’m pretty sure my boss would kill me or something if I record this.”

“Or something. Maybe a nice red ass to match your blushing face,” he replies, making Rey’s blush deepen. 

“Well, um, anyway, I think I’m going to wander the mansion for a bit. I’m curious,” she stammers awkwardly. 

“I will see you soon, Miss Niima,” he replies, pressing a kiss onto her hand. 

Rey moves towards the door, but before she walks down the stairs, she hears Ben call out her name. “Yes?” she asks. 

“You need a pseudonym if you are going into the manor. Something for others to call you, so you can remain anonymous,” he rushes out. 

Rey raises her eyebrows. “Oh.” She pauses, thinking. “Call me Kira.”

§

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if there’s any tags I missed! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! And share some love ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> Check Out My Other Works:  
> [lattes and shoe string](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25622719/chapters/62196082) Rated T, Complete. Coffee shop owner Ben has a crush on a regular even though she orders ridiculous concoctions meant to rot your teeth.  
> [Melted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25849474) Rated E, Complete. Oneshot. Married Ben and Rey decide to experiment in the bedroom with wax play.  
> [Call Out My Name](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26020240/chapters/63269455) Rated E, Complete. Sugar Daddy A/B/O that’s half porn and half fluff.  
> [won’t stop ‘til we surrender](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25741420/chapters/62508916) Rated M, WIP. Friends to lovers AU about small towns and growing up. Some angst.  
> [Dark and Stormy Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25898212/chapters/62935585) Rated E, WIP. Rey moves to Minneapolis for school and encounters a mysterious figure named Kylo AKA my college vampire AU.  
> Non Reylo fic:  
> [Master’s Kitten](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26167420) Rated E, Complete. Flip Zimmermann/Reader fic that’s legit just straight porn lol. Mind the tags. 
> 
> Follow me on twitter for thirst tweets and oversharing:  
> [@icryforbensolo](https://twitter.com/icryforbensolo)


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